It took me a minute, but the Queen Anne dining room chairs were perfect.
“Grace,” Sinclair said, twisting to look at her. “You’re her sister.”
I was on my way back with the chair when Sinclair tried to lunge toward her, not that Voodoo let him move.
“Of course, you’re her sister. I knew she had a twin. They—” He cut off abruptly and I gave him a brief look before I began touse the knife to cut through the fabric seat, carving a hole in the center.
“Oh,” Alphabet said with a slow grin. “Double-O seven?”
I inclined my head. “I’ve been wanting to try it, no time like the present. It’s also effective.”
“Gonna need to strip him,” Voodoo mused and Sinclair let out a shriek. I paused mid cut to see Bones had joined them with a knife of his own.
He didn’t bother to warn Sinclair not to struggle, he just sliced the man’s clothes off. The number of cuts Sinclair got—well that was on him. Grace stood like a statue for the entire time as we worked, her arms were folded, her expression distant. She’d changed from her business clothes and wore sweats, a t-shirt, and a hoodie now. Her damp hair was curling at the ends, though she’d pulled most of it back into a ponytail.
No cosmetics hid the shadows smudging the underside of her eyes nor did it change how stark her bright blue eyes were against her pale face and dark hair. Still, she remained absolutely stunning. Now probably wasn’t the best time to tell her that, but I planned to make sure she knew sooner rather than later.
Once I had the chair ready, I moved it over for the guys to sit Sinclair’s bare ass down. The hole let the man’s balls fall out the underside and the chair had the right height, but we’d need to test my swing.
“Got the rope,” Alphabet said as I took over from Bones and helped Voodoo secure Sinclair.
“This is illegal,” Sinclair said abruptly. “This is torture. It’s a war crime.”
I paused to meet his gaze. “If you were a prisoner of war, maybe. You’re not.”
“It’s still illegal.”
“So is selling people,” Voodoo told him as he tightened one zip-tie brutally. “So is paying cash to facilitate the kidnapping and transportation of victims out of the country.”
I jerked the last zip-tie around the man’s ankle to make sure he couldn’t get away from the chair leg. “Secure.”
Voodoo nodded. “Secure.”
“You can’t do this,” Sinclair yelled, and the chair hopped a little as he struggled. “You can go to jail for this.”
Yeah, that didn’t even deserve an answer. When Sinclair swung his gaze to Grace, she didn’t even flinch.
“Youcouldgo to jail. End up locked up for the rest of your life, for what? These criminals?” He shook his head abruptly. “I’m a good attorney, I can take care of this, any charges, set you up and make sure you’re fine.”
Grace raised her brows.
As if seeing an opening, he leaned forward. “I am very wealthy. I have a lot more power than you can imagine and I can give you whatever you want.”
I took the heavy rope from Alphabet and tested the heft, and the knot he’d made at the end. I added a second one to it. I wanted it to have a really good swing.
“Anything I want?” The soft question had Sinclair pouncing. He didn’t see the trap.
He would.
“Yes,” Sinclair swore. “Anything. Just name it.”
“I want my sister, you son of a bitch. What did you do with her?”
His face blanched. That was the first honest reaction he’d had since waking up.
“I—I don’t know,” Sinclair stammered, throat bobbing hard. “Grace, I swear to you, I don’t?—”
“Wrong answer,” she said.
